


The Ones Left Behind

by Elvendork



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Ageing, Allusions to Alcoholism, Angst, Gen, Written Pre-Zurich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendork/pseuds/Elvendork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to Zurich: </p><p>Martin, Herc, and Arthur have all left for jobs in Switzerland. MJN is finished. Carolyn and Douglas remain, and try to figure out what to do next. They do not have high hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ones Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I was - as I am wont to do every so often - combing through some of my old abandoned ficlets and ideas. I came across this one, which I wrote about three months before Zurich aired when I was feeling particularly pessimistic. I'm not sure if I was planning on expanding it or not... it was just a snippet that was stuck in my head. I added a final couple of lines to round it off, but other than that it is unchanged.

‘You seem remarkably okay with all of this,’ Douglas comments, gesturing vaguely with one hand and twisting his glass of apple juice with the other.

‘You’re a fool if you believe that,’ Carolyn replies, raising an eyebrow. Douglas tips his head in acknowledgement.

‘I may be many things,’ he admits, ‘but a fool is not one of them. Care to elaborate?’

‘We are – or at least _I_ am – here to drink, Douglas, not to _talk_.’ She scowls and drains half of her small glass as though to prove a point. Though she has not yet had enough to even reasonably be called _tipsy_ , and though she generally tends towards being a surprisingly cheerful drunk, Carolyn is becoming increasingly morose the longer they stay here.

‘You could just as well have got yourself smashed at home, alone,’ Douglas points out. ‘You’re the one who invited me here.’ Douglas sips his juice and waits. Around them the life cycle of the pub continues as it ever has; the laughter is too loud, the many chattering voices have all blurred into one indistinct hum, and no one is listening to the music.

‘Well, what do you expect?’ Carolyn bursts out eventually. ‘I’ve lost my pilots, my business, my _son_ , my – Herc. I have every right to be angry.’

‘I never denied it,’ Douglas soothes. ‘Although if I could correct you on just a few small points?’

Carolyn gives him the sort of look that says she dares him to just _try_. Douglas has never been able to resist a dare.

‘The only one of those things you have actually lost is your business,’ says Douglas bluntly. ‘Arthur is in Switzerland, not on Pluto; likewise for Herc and Martin. I, regrettably, am still in Fitton, and here I will remain. I may not live with either of my daughters anymore, but I can at least be based in the same country. You have no such ties, you’ve said so yourself. So go to Switzerland. Sweep Herc off his feet –’

‘Douglas Richardson, I am warning you –’

‘What’s stopping you?’ Douglas asks. For the first time a hint of bitterness enters his voice. He finishes his apple juice in one gulp before standing, without waiting for a reply, to get a refill.

‘It’s not that simple,’ Carolyn says when he gets back, barely acknowledging the fresh glass he slides in front of her.

‘Why not?’ There is something strained in Douglas’s voice, something forced. He sounds irritated, but it does not seem to be directed at Carolyn. It is directed at himself. Carolyn watches him as a tiny frown creases her features, but decides not to comment. ‘Why did you let them go in the first place if it means this much to you?’

‘It wasn’t a question of letting them go,’ Carolyn argues.

‘Yes,’ Douglas replies simply, ‘it was. You practically chased them out, and now you regret it –’

‘ _Don’t_ ,’ Carolyn interrupts sharply, in the sort of voice that would usually have Douglas making a note to warn the others of a force ten storm. He takes another drink. There is no one to tell. ‘Do not presume to tell me how I feel,’ Carolyn continues, ‘ _ever_.’

‘Even when I’m right?’ Carolyn opens her mouth furiously, ready to tear her old First Officer to shreds, but then she stops. She shakes her head in frustration and huffs a deep sigh.

‘Especially when you’re right,’ she replies, deflating. The look on Douglas’s face is sickeningly _understanding_ ; she would prefer it if he appeared smug. ‘What was I supposed to do?’ she demands. ‘Tell Herc to take early retirement? Lose his job on my account? Tell Martin that he couldn’t leave? Tell him he had to stay at a pathetic little excuse for a charter firm that couldn’t even pay him, flying a plane only still in the air through sheer force of hope, and living in the attic of some grotty student house –’

‘It wasn’t all _that_ grotty. We’ve stayed in worse hotels.’

‘– and humping boxes around in his spare time just to earn a living? Tell Arthur that _he_ had to stay?  
You should have _seen_ him, he was so excited –’

‘I get the picture,’ Douglas cuts her off. He looks… he looks how Carolyn feels. He looks _tired_. He heaves an enormous sigh, swilling his apple juice around the glass and watching it for a moment before he looks up at Carolyn. ‘You aren’t going to Switzerland, are you?’ he phrases it like a question, but it isn’t one. Or if it is, he knows the answer before he has even finished asking.

‘No,’ says Carolyn. She glares at her drink then leans back into the red faux-leather backing of her seat. She tips her face towards the ceiling and closes her eyes.

‘They’ve moved on,’ Douglas finishes for her.

‘We’re too old to go chasing after them,’ Carolyn agrees. Even though Herc is barely a year younger than him, Douglas feels the truth of her words too deeply to deny. It is not so much to do with age as it is to do with experience, he supposes. At least, that is the best way he can think of to describe it. He and Carolyn… they have had their best years. Herc is still enjoying his. God willing, Martin and Arthur are finding theirs and will hang onto them for a very long time to come. Carolyn and Douglas have no place in their new lives.

It doesn’t sting. It _aches_. It aches deep in their bones, a weariness that no amount of sleep will ever be able to assuage. Douglas has never felt such fatigue; he has never truly experienced the feeling of being _useless_ until now.

He thinks of GERTI, held together for so long by only gaffer tape and hope, now languishing in some decrepit scrap metal yard, an aeroplane’s graveyard, beyond anyone’s care anymore. He has never sympathised with an inanimate object quite so much.

He looks down into his second apple juice and wonders if Carolyn would bother to object if he ordered something stronger.


End file.
